


Oh God, Not The Westwood!

by BookishTea



Series: Molliarty [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Clothing, Crying, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gift Fic, Lies, Molly Has Secrets, Swearing, molliarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookishTea/pseuds/BookishTea
Summary: In which timid Molly Hooper must hide a heinous crime from a man who likes to watch a murder take place while drinking his morning coffee.





	1. Splash Zone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurningLostStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningLostStars/gifts).



> This is really short, but the following fic was meant as a birthday gift. Happy birthday, whyimmathere! You temptress, with all of your quality molliarty gifs, and well.. everything! <3 xoxo

Dating Jim was different and difficult, he was by far the most unpredictable boyfriend Molly ever had. His personality and mood seemed to switch on a dime, but really Molly didn't mind too much. Dating had been hard for her in general. Still, in a way she liked it. It added a twist to her life that none of her friends and family.. Oh, okay the handful people she knew and even put up with her morbid sense of humor, had any knowledge of. For once she was someone who knew things.  
  
Those damn secrets.. They were her eventual downfall. It all started with a cup of coffee, her second that day. She had a dry cleaning bag tossed over her shoulder, strolling down the sidewalk while she held a styrofoam cup. Jim had asked.. Okay, he _told_ her to pick it up and she had. Not because she was fearful and had to fulfill his demands, but it was more of her inability to refuse. She felt bad, he must be under a lot of stress. Running an entire criminal empire didn't sound exactly easy. Sometimes she worried after him, if he slept enough or ate a decent meal. Knowing him, he didn't do either yet, he was always on that bloody phone.

Cursing into the chilly autumn air, she hefted the weight of the bag again, slowing down so she could take another sip. At least the cafe she found had been nice, she'd have to make a note there to go again sometime. Maybe Meena would go, or even Jim. It was unlikely, but hey, it's nice to have hopes.

She exhaled, warmth running down her chest as she swallowed. 

At that point things were looking pretty normal, not as if some major event would occur in a split second. But truly do we ever get a warning of future catastrophes? 

"Shit!" She stumbled on a hole in the sidewalk, jostling everything as she tried to right her balance and not fall flat on her face. Although she didn't manage to introduce her face to the concrete, while she flailed her arms around the lid on her cup came off. Not only did she splash herself with some of the scalding hot liquid, but to her growing panic, some of it was on the bag. That shouldn't have been a problem, the coffee should have rolled off the plastic - the issue was that earlier when inspecting Jim's suit, she'd partially unzipped the bag and had forgotten to do it back up.

"Shit! Shit!" She frantically looked around, like someone on the street would randomly appear with a solution. Molly looked down once more at the bag in dismay, one undeniably thought going through her head. Jim was going to kill her. What was she going to do?! What was she- Molly fished for her cell in one of her jacket's pockets, unlocking it and scrolling through the contacts until she found the number.

* * *

 

Sebastian sighed, adjusting the weight of the gun leaning against his shoulder. There a comfort to it, the familiarity of the cool metal. He grabbed the cell on windowsill, picking it up before the vibrating phone could fall to the ground. Taking a glance at the ID, he frowned but still answered it, pressing the cell to his ear. "Hello?"

A tinny voice muffled partially by running water gave a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness! Sebastian, I need your help." His brows furrowed.

"Are you all right? Do you need me to call my bo-" He winced at the shout.

"N-no! Don't... you can't call him." Now things were getting interesting.

"Why not?" He leaned downwards, peering through the scope. The doors from the warehouse opened, a group of men shielding a single older man in the middle. His target was on the move, his window for opportunity was closing. "Hold on."

"I..." Molly frowned, standing in a fast food restaurant washroom. She was hunched over the sinks, trying to rub one of the large stains out but it wasn't working. The sound of a stall opening came from behind her, and she looked up, catching the eyes of a customer in the mirror. She watched as the other woman glanced downwards at the suit.

"You know that's not going to work, right?"

Molly bit her bottom lip. _Why didn't she mind her own bloody business?_   From her cell a loud sound filled the room. To someone unfamiliar with it, it would be reminiscent of a wooden broom handle being broken into two. But to Molly it was easily identifiable, it was a gunshot. Her eyes widened and she snatched her cell from its perch, pressing it back into her ear.

"Is.. Is everything all right?" Sebastian gave a grunt, voice a tad breathless like he was running. "Should I have called you?"

"Probably not" the gruff voice admitted, "but there's little we can do about it now. What was the problem you were having?"

"Oh, um..." It seemed so trivial now. "I.." Reminded that woman wandered over to the other sinks to wash her hands and was pretending that she wasn't obviously listening in, Molly chose her words carefully. "I was picking up that suit, and there was an issue."

There was a delay to his response, to the point where Molly thought they might have gotten disconnected. "What kind of issue are we talking about?"

"Um..." she peered downwards, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Can it be saved? Boss needed that for some meeting."

"Um... there might have been a casualty."

A groan filled her ear, Sebastian eventually saying. "Fine. Head back to your flat for now, but when you get there you hav-"

* * *

 

Ever gently Molly closed the door behind her, flinching when a voice called out. "What took you so long?! I thought I was going crazy with nothing to do!" She slipped out of her shoes and hung her jacket up, padding into the living room with a nervous smile.

"Well," Jim added on with a grin "crazier than usual." He was laying on the couch, head propped up with the pillows from her bed. He gave an air of elegance despite wearing nothing but boxers, one leg crossed over another as Toby purred from his curled up position on Jim's chest. The consulting criminal momentarily lowered the novel he'd been reading, one of Molly's old trashy romance novels. She sighed at the sight of it. "So, what took so long?"

"Well, haha, about that.." He sat up, tossing the book to the coffee table in favour of his eyes looking up and down her appearance. Toby let out a annoyed meow as he slid down Jim's chest, falling into the consulting criminal's lap. With a flick of his tail, Toby was bolting out of the room. Molly flinched. When Jim finally stared at her face again, his eyes narrowed.

"Where's my suit, dear?"

"Um..." She wet her lips.

 


	2. You're Suffocating Me

Sebastian had already talked to her about this moment, had tried to prepare her for its inevitably. And yet Molly found herself freezing, unsure what to do or say. It should have been easy to say a simple lie, but with Jim it was nearly impossible. He was like a shark, able to smell the fear and anxiety wafting off of her. There was blood in the water, and she was afraid she wasn't going to escape its depths without a chunk missing. 

"Well?" He drew out impatiently.

"I.." She fumbled with the buttons on her cardigan, happy when a ringtone cut through the tension. Jim rolled his eyes, snatching the device from the coffee table. He checked the screen before he hit answer, putting it against his ear.

"What?" Molly's ears picked up a muffled voice on the other end. "And?" She wet her lips at her boyfriend's annoyed tone. Pleased with the momentarily distraction, she tip-toed from the living room and stealthily attempted to head to the bathroom. As soon as she moved, his eyes flickered upwards, watching as she slipped past. He raised a brow at her, silently telling her that he wouldn't forget about their unfulfilled conversation.

Stepping into the room, Molly gently closed the door behind her. She let out a sigh, resting her forehead against the wood. She could still hear Jim talking. Lifting her head she turned around, stepping up to the sink and turning it on cold, she splashed some of the water onto her face. What little amount of makeup she wore was smudged, making an mess. She didn't care, dousing herself in water until her face was dripping and she was shivering. Lifting her head she stared at her reflection, taking in the details. She looked tired, she wasn't completely sure why that was.

A knock on the door had her jumping a foot in the air, head snapping towards it.  

"I'll be back." 

Molly chewed on her bottom lip at the Irish lilt, mumbling a quiet "Okay." His footsteps left the hallway, going down to the front where she heard the door slam shut. Molly's eyes slid back to her reflection, hoping everything would work out.

* * *

 

_Earlier_

 

Sebastian wasn't entirely sure who was going to be the one to kill him, some assassin, Jim, that meddling detective and his doctor, or a socially anxious pathologist. As time went on, he started to think Molly would be the death of him. This was one of those moments. He sighed, offering her an awkward pat on the shoulder as she continued to grossly sob.

"It's okay" he mumbled, squinting at the ceiling. 

"No, it's not! It's ruined!" Through her tears she looked down at the suit in her hands, staring at the stains. He loved this suit, he talked about it nonstop while it was being made. It was a custom made Westwood, a one of a kind. The suit was a dark Prussian blue, printed on it was the white ghostly image of skulls - etched and spattered in blood. The tie was of the same design, and opposite to the powder blue of the dress shirt, now tainted with the splotches of dried coffee. What droplets that had gotten on the suit went unnoticeable, the shirt on the other hand was a mess.

Jim was going to be pissed if he saw this. Sebastian lowered his eyes to Molly, fishing in his jeans' pocket for a tissue. He offered it to her, watching as she accepted it with a sniffled "T-thank you." Taking the suit from her, he inspected it fully as she blew her nose.

"Look, I know this guy." Molly peered at him around the tissue. "He's a cleaner."

"A cleaner? Like, he cleans up dead bodies kind of cleaner?"

It was a hard challenge not to roll his eyes, "He's just a cleaner." She had her doubts, but she didn't press it. "I'll give him a call and we'll see if he can straighten out this mess. In the meantime, we need to direct his attention elsewhere."

She lowered the tissue from her face, blinking she asked "How?" He returned the suit to its bag, zipping it back up. For a moment he stared at it, brows furrowed as he pondered the question. 

"I'll think of something, but for now you have to act like nothing is wrong." She chewed on her bottom lip, giving him a skeptical look. "Trust me." 

"O-okay." 

"I'll let the cleaner know you're coming over, I'll give you his address, you just need to give the suit over." _That didn't sound too hard._

* * *

 

_Now_

 

She was back on the street once more, trying to act casual and to not glance over her shoulder ever other second. Everything was going smoothly, or it was supposed to, so really she shouldn't worry. But that was just Molly's nature, she worried over nothing and everything. Even the most trivial things couldn't escape her notice. While coming up from the subway, she held the bag close to her chest, shoulders hunched as she joined the crowded streets. She made sure to stay clear of the curbs, she didn't want someone driving by to hit a puddle and cover her with the murky water. The outfit had already suffered too much, she didn't want to add onto the work the cleaner needed to do. 

The cleaner.. No name, nothing. It was terrifying the person she was going to meet, and her lack of knowledge of them. There was no doubt in her mind that this person must have seen more of Jim's criminal side, the stains that had to be cleaned. If there was blood involved... she was sure they'd seen it all, especially if Sebastian knew them.

Molly glanced down at the paper clutched in her hand, studying the address that had been written down. It was two blocks until she found what she was looking for. If she wasn't so determined to find it, easily she would have walked past the small cramped corner store. In the windows there was two neon signs flashing, one said 'cleaners' while the other was 'alterations'. Nervous with the dusty dim appearance of the store, she fought her fear back and pulled the door open and headed inside.

Ominously her shoes clacked against the tiles, a counter across from her, with shelves lining the walls behind it. There was several folded bags with labels adorning them, likewise to the rows of racks with hanging bagged coats. She stepped up to the counter, timidly tapping the desk bell. "Hello?" She glanced at her fingers immediately afterwards, rubbing the grime on her trousers. Despite its namesake, this place appeared as though it hadn't been tidied since the '80s - it was completely filthy. _Maybe Sebastian gave me the wrong address?_ Just as the thought entered her mind, she heard a slight sound. A shuffling from the closed door behind the counter, it went on for a few minutes until it grew louder, footsteps approaching. Finally the door swung open, and a figure regarded her from the frame.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, yes I-" _Was it okay for her to use her name?_ "Someone called for me earlier today about a suit?"

"Ah, the Westwood. Let's have a look." He strolled away from the room's darkness, features emerging as the limited sunlight hit his face. Perhaps it was after years from working in these conditions, but the cleaner had pale sickly skin, with dark circles under his eyes. His form was tall and twisted, hunched over in the cramped space as he held his hands out. Reluctantly she passed the bag over, eyeing his greasy salt and pepper hair. This wasn't a man she liked, his quiet but critical attention had her nervous. He was... he was weird, plain and simple. The cleaner unzipped the suit and made a disgruntled hum, brushing his index finger on the fabric.

"D-do you know how long it'll take?"

The cleaner sighed. "If you went to a normal business it would be three days to tend to the suit, and that's without repairs. But since this is a.. a different business, and you're in a state of emergency - give me until the evening."

"You're kidding?!" He looked upwards.

"No. I never kid about drying cleaning."

"...Right.." Her gaze moved away from his. "What do I pay you?" The cleaner sighed, laying the bag on the counter.

"It's already been handled. I'll have it delivered as soon as it's finished, you'll be getting a call when it's on its way." 

"I assume you already have my address?" He nodded. Molly wasn't sure how she felt about this man knowing where she lived, and that Sebastian gave that information freely. She nodded absently, "I'll be off then. Thank you for everything." He gave a dismissive grunt, staring after her until she awkwardly left. Standing once more on the street, Molly shook her head. Tucking her clammy hands into her jacket's pockets, she went on her way, hoping everything was going smoothly with the sniper.

* * *

 

His boss was in a mood, that was never a good thing. How does one deal with a man of the insane variety in a mood? Well, Sebastian passed the chocolate bar he had bought from a general store over to Jim. The consulting criminal was perched on a sofa, head on his palm as he accepted it with his free hand. There was a poor bloke sitting in a chair across from them, naked and sweating profusely. He had gotten into a bit of trouble, not the kind that Jim thought was fun, but one where he ended up needing to prove his loyalty. That feat involved a foot and its toe nails, and a electric drill. Sebastian leaned to the side, crossing his arms. _Been there, done that._

It was like watching paint dry, at least to them. It wasn't clear what the man was currently thinking(if he could even form a thought at that moment), especially when Jim told him to sing a song. Room now filling with an off key rendition of, Haddaway's _What is Love_ \- complete with the female back vocals, casually Jim unwrapped the chocolate, taking a loud bite. Chewing on the sweet, he asked "What aren't you telling me?"

Sebastian kept his gaze straight ahead, "Tell you what, sir?"

Jim took another noisy bite, "Whatever secret you're withholding. Sebby, you do know how much I enjoy discovering secrets and exploiting them."

"I know." His employer sniffed.

"You and Molly.." His eyes narrowed, little cogs in his mind turning as he thought it over. He opened his mouth, lips stained with chocolate as he was about to comment. Their company gave a shout, the drill's sound stopping. Jim lowered his treat, glaring.

"Did I say you could stop?" Sebastian sighed, leaving while Jim was distracted. As the door closed behind him, a muffled sob rose to his ears. He checked on his cell, finding he missed a call. He returned it, entering a secluded room in the damp warehouse, a place where his voice wouldn't carry in the silence. 

After a few rings she finally picked up. "H-hello?"

"Did you drop it off?"

"Yes.."

"...but?"

"But..." She exhaled "Did you really have to send me to a guy who would be most likely to murder me in all of London?"

"If I wanted to do that, I would have arranged a car to take you to your boyfriend."

"...Ha. Ha. That was very funny Moran.." 

"It's the truth."

Molly snorted, "Any funnier and I'd worry about you killing not some government official but all of comedy as we know it."

 

 


	3. Suit Up

It was a comfort returning to her flat, at least to escape the chill of the day. She still felt a tad bit off about that strange man knowing where she lived, and because of that she found herself going over the windows and making sure everything was completely secured and locked. As that was her only line of defense besides Toby, who had the habit of clawing the shit out of any strangers who came to the flat. Really, he was the best 'guard dog' she could have asked for.

Walking through her flat, she cleaned it up a bit. Mostly the messes Jim always seemed to leave behind, she tended to wonder if he did that just to irritate her. It wasn't something she would put past him doing. The romance novel was placed back onto the bookshelf, along with all of the others, she was embarrassed to own but never threw out. The pillows were tossed back onto her bed, and the dishes were placed in the sink. Taking a cup from the cabinet, she placed a tea bag in it as she waited for the kettle to boil over. Plopping back onto her sofa, Molly groaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

She prayed that the cleaner was as good as Sebastian thought he was, that the suit would arrive without any difficulty and Jim would be happy. That's all she could ask for. Sandpaper tongue dragging across the back of her left hand, she opened her eyes to smile softly at Toby. She lifted her hand to rub his head, relaxing at the chirp he gave her.

Her body sinking further into the comfy furniture, all of the stress that plagued Molly seemed to drain away momentarily. She was in this peaceful state for a minute, then her cell began to ring. Groaning, she picked it up from the coffee table, thinking it was either the cleaner or Sebastian until she checked the ID. That's when her heart was caught in her throat. She didn't want to answer it, but not doing so would raise far more questions. Chewing on her bottom lip, Molly forced herself to answer it.

"H-hello?"

"Molly, dearest. Are you all right?"

Paranoia cast over her, she immediately checked over her shoulder in case her boyfriend was standing behind her. Of course that was simply foolish, no one was there. Moving the phone away from her face so she could breath in, she decided the casual approach would be the best. "Yes, why... why are you asking?"

Jim wasn't stupid, he chuckled at the poor facade. "Are you sure? You sound like you're in distress."

She tried to play it off by laughing, which did nothing but making things worse. She awkwardly laughed into the cell phone, deciding to muffle it with a few coughs when she thought she sounded too nervous. The silence between them stretched out until Molly was squirming in her seat, trying to ignore the hairs raising on her arms at Jim's lack of speaking. "A-are... are you still there?"

He gave a small chuckle, "I definitely am, dearest."

"Right, um... Everything is fine... Uh... How are you...?" There was a pause of silence. Molly wanted to slap herself; what was she thinking?! 'How are you'? Lightly she smacked her forehead.

"Oh, lovely, now that I can visit my beautiful darling."

"Beau-" Her confusion was caught off guard, twisting in her seat to watch in silent horror as the front door swung open. Jim regarded her from the frame, lowering the phone from his ear. 

"Hello, darling."

"H-hello." Gingerly she dropped the phone, absently hitting end call. She remained seated as he stepped inside, shivering when he kicked the door close with his heel. "What... what are you doing here?"

Jim rose a brow, "I can't visit you?" He strolled around the flat, completely at ease. 

"Of course you can! But, um..." She trailed off, anxiously rubbing her hands toward as he plopped on the other side of the sofa, hand thrown over the back. Although his confidence has been usually a turn-on, right now it was setting her on edge. She had to be careful now, to distract him until the suit arrived.

"But what?" He purred, tone bordering mocking. "What's wrong, dear? You're looking pale."

Molly forced a smile on her face, "It's just the London weather, not much sun to cause a tan." It was sort of a truth, but not a convincing one.

"You're sure, it has nothing to do with you lying to me?"

"I'm not..." She took a break to nervously laugh, "I'm not lying to you."

"Keeping secrets, dear, is a form of lying. And..." He scooted over to be closer to her, "You know how much I hate that. Someone deceiving me."

"I-I think you're overreacting, there's nothing to be worried about."

"Are you sure?" He pressed into her side, his smile frozen in place. "That's the answer you're going with?"

Molly opened her mouth, and then promptly closed it. Would it be better to tell the truth? And if she did, would that minimize the reaction Jim would have? He'd never hurt her before, never abused her in a way that most people might think he would. Aside from some obvious... Eccentricities, he was a caring boyfriend, one that listened to her needs and wants. But she was doing the opposite right now, hurting him instead of being honest. And that was something she never wanted to do, hadn't intended on doing... But that is what has been happening, wasn't it?"

"Okay," she whispered, fighting against the knot in her belly. "There's something I've been keeping from you." She lowered her gaze to the floor, away from his widening smile. 

"Go on, I'm listening."

"You see, earlier today I-" The door bell rung. 

For a second they both sat there, until the chiming sound filled the flat for a second time. Springing to her feet, Molly called out, "Coming!" Her pace was quick, feeling Jim's eyes burning into her as she opened the front door.

* * *

 

Sebastian barely had time to raise a brow at Molly's panicked expression, before he was yanked inside. Door shutting behind him, he stumbled forward, the bag held close to his chest. "Ah," he breathed, noting his less than pleased employer. "So you're here."

Jim laughed, lacking any humour as he said, "Am I not allowed to?"

"No one said you weren't." Unlike Molly, he didn't flinch when Jim climbed to his feet. Nor when he sauntered over, movements lazy as he zipped the bag open. With a considering hum, he gave it a look over. When he was finished, he raised his gaze to Sebastian, studying his face. After a second or two, he slid his attention over to Molly. She didn't fare too well with the sudden staring. Sebastian fought an eye roll, making a mental note to never let her have a life wagering game of poker.

"So," Jim hissed, "Mind telling me what you're so afraid of, love?"

"It's nothing..." She took a deep breath, and considerably calmer, she said "Look, Jim. I know how much the suit means to you, so I took it to the dry cleaners." He rose a brow at the admission.

"And how do you know what it 'means to me'?"

Molly's brows furrowed, "Isn't it for an important meeting?" Her confusion mounted when Jim had the nerve to appear embarrassed - or at least, a version of it. It took him clearing his throat, but eventually he conceded.

"It wasn't meant for a meeting." He shot a glare at Sebastian. The sniper took the hint, and after placing the suit on the sofa, he left. Now alone, Jim stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, and shifted his weight. "My intention was to be properly dressed for a special occasion."

"Special occasion...?"

He tossed his head back, and gave an exasperated sigh. "The anniversary, dear. _Our_ anniversary." Molly's brain short-circulated, blanking watching as Jim paced the living room. "It was all supposed to be a surprise, but then you and Seb' were acting... Strange." He spun around, tone defensive, "You can't blame me, can you? You know I hate people sneaking behind my back!"

Molly slowly blinked. "You were planning a... a surprise date?"

Jim threw his hands into the air,"Obviously! Come now, Molls. It wasn't that hard to follow along, was it?" He swiftly reached out, grabbing Molly's wrists when her legs gave away.

"I thought," she mumbled, "that you were going to kill me."

"Kill you?" Jim scoffed. "Oh, God no. I mean, clearly I'm going to be the death of you, but not by my own hands - or any hands for that matter. If anything, I'd say you're the most protected person in the world."

"Lucky me..."

"Molly, please. There's no need to be so over dramatic."

"Over-" He pressed a finger against her lips, momentarily silencing her fury.

"But wait, darling." She glared up into his eyes, "You haven't gotten your gift yet." She was led to the sofa, which she remained seated on as he exited the room. He could be heard in the bedroom, rummaging through something - certainly not putting things back as he returned. In his hands he held a large plastic bag, an exact replica of the one lying on the couch.

Quite pleased with himself, he giggled under his breath as he held it before her, and unzipped it. Inside was a dress, the same colours and scheme that made up his Westwood suit. 

"Jim," she breathed, not sure whether she hit her head or not. "I don't know what to say..."

He did the zipper up again, tossing the bag to where the other was resting. "Thank you, would suffice," he hunched down before her, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "And a promise to not spill coffee on this one."


End file.
